Stars Collide
by princesstaranee
Summary: I wish I didn't love you, every day. But I just can't help myself.


"So, you're telling me that Snape was pretending to be a Death Eater pretending to be in the Order of the Phoenix pretending to be a Death Eater all the while being Dumbledore's man through and through?" Emilia Frank asks, a frown etched into her face. For a pureblood witch, brought up in the wizard world, she sure knows very little about the Second Wizarding War.

"Yes," says my Uncle Harry who happens to be taking our Defence against the Dark Arts lesson today. "He was the bravest man I ever knew."

"No way!" Albus exclaims. "I thought you were talking about Dumbledore when you told me that!"

I roll my eyes. Sixth Year DADA means that our classes are mixed with Ravenclaws, Hufflepuffs, Gryffindors and Slytherins due to the smaller number of people and the greater number of subjects. As a Ravenclaw, I've only ever had my lessons with the Hufflepuffs and I've fortunately never had to come into contact with the Slytherins during lessons. That means that my annoying cousin Albus and his equally evil best friend Scorpius Malfoy have only ever been able to piss me off outside of class. And before this year, there has never been a great deal of 'free time'. Hey, I like to study.

The bell goes and I get my things together. I don't want to see either of those boys right now. I flash back to a year ago. Back then, I'd been very naïve. Incredibly intelligent, yes, but naïve. I was a fool for words, especially. My mum's Muggle upbringing has left me with a strong fondness for Shakespeare. And then he came along and I had no idea how it – anything – could be better than what he did to me. He would take my hand and I'd just fall head first. With him, I felt like a Gryffindor.

But I guess now I know why he's a Slytherin. He smashes up things and people and then retreats back into his money. Sometimes I wonder if the Sorting Hat was wrong in its description of Slytherins as cunning. I prefer "cruel".

I glance at my watch. I have the afternoon off now, due to my sheer number of free periods. I drop my bag off in my dormitory and decide to go for a walk.

I wander around the grounds for a long time, thinking about anything and everything, before deciding to visit the school garden. It's a recent addition to the Hogwarts grounds; a select few pupils who excel at Herbology get to help Professor Longbottom tend it. Since I dropped Herbology this year, I no longer get to help and I haven't been to see the new plants in a while.

It's a typical English garden, which is ironic considering we're in Scotland, but it involves a sweeping field with border flowers. According to Uncle Harry it strongly resembles his Aunt Petunia's garden, only the flowers are magical and there are some fruit trees and a vegetable patch. More to the point, thanks to an undetectable extension charm, this garden is huge.

I sit down next to a melon tree (a melon tree! In Scotland!) and look around. I love the peace; the delicious solitude that is found here. I breathe in, hoping that in the air I'll be able to find some rhyme or reason. I need to think these feelings through; rationalise them. It's what Ravenclaws _do_.

My eyes focus on a particularly brilliant Marvel of Peru; it reminds me of all the people who get yanked out of their homes to come to this marvellous school. The poor thing doesn't belong here, yet it is sustained out of the sheer brilliance of those around it. I suppose the common analogy is 'a fish out of water' but here I don't think it fits. I feel…differently, somehow.

I heard a song today. Some girl in Fourth Year was strumming on her guitar and humming about how much her boyfriend loved her. She's fourteen. You don't fall in love at that age unless you're Juliet, in which case you're thirteen and dead. Well, I used to believe that. Until him I'd never known how fast someone can fall in love. And it was love. I know it.

Ugh, that girl had it so good. I wish that I could close my eyes and see you… I wish that the sky had your face and the oceans had your eyes and the sunset had your lips and… I wish that I had you.

If this love is so wrong, why do I keep ending up thinking of him? I wonder. I keep trying to persuade myself that what he did to me means that he should end up with his balls chopped off and served to him on a plate, but instead I'm whispering lyrically about how I wish that he were mine.

I glance up at the sky. It's twilight; the most serene time of the day. Against the background, on its huge rock sits the rambling castle. I can see the lake beyond, through the hedges, with the stars reflected on its still surface. I smile with chagrin. Another day is gone and it was spent revolving around him.

"Well, how jocund is this scene!"

I glance up, startled, to see my obnoxious cousin standing there. He never used to be like this, but I suppose Slytherin and Scorpius got to him. I glare. "Jocund, Al? Really?"

"It's my word of the day," he grins. "Good, huh?"

I ignore him, instead aiming for the root of my annoyance. The sooner he winds me up, the sooner he leaves. "What is your problem? Why do you keep following me?" I sigh.

"Because, Rosie, I care about you," he says sincerely.

I raise my eyebrows sceptically. "Yeah, right. Leave me alone."

"Err, no. Firstly, as a Prefect, it is my obligation to tell you, that regardless of the fact it is only four o'clock, you shouldn't be outside after dark. Secondly, you've hardly spoken to me and Scorp since the – ah – incident."

"Well, that 'incident' resulted in me never wanting to speak to him again. And since, you're his best friend, he's always around you."

Albus ignores me. "What are you doing here, anyway? Sleeping?"

"To sleep, perchance to dream," I reply wistfully. "To get away from everything, you idiot."

"Shakespeare, Rose? Really?" he uses my own words back on me. "And the use of escapism. Isn't that what literature is for?"

I sigh yet again. He thinks he's so clever because he went on a Muggle supplementary Literature course over the summer. He came back quoting Christopher Marlowe at me. He still doesn't know who Marlowe actually was.

"Did somebody say Draco Malfoy?" a loud, even more obnoxious voice demands.

"No, Scorp, no one did," Al says, grinning at his friend. I glower as Scorpius starts spouting nonsense. "Sit down, you inarticulate bumble," Al sniggers.

"You're drunk," I say to Scorpius, as he plonks himself beside me. He drapes an arm around my neck and I wriggle out from it.

"No, I'm not. Come closer, babe." Scorp – I mean, Malfoy – says, smiling that gorgeous – I mean, ugly – smile.

"No!" I cry. My heart is breaking again. "No, I won't take one more step towards you. Do you know why?" Al and Scorp are looking very startled, but I can't stop. "Because all that's waiting is regret. It's taken me so long just to feel alright. And do you know what I wish, more than anything? I wish that I had missed the first time that we kissed. Because you broke _all_ of your promises. You hurt me, Scorp. You went out with Lily just to get back at Al because he had a crush on me. You used me. Do you not know how that feels?"

"Rose, you're being stupid." Scorpius stands up. "Your _cousin _fancied you. That's weird! And we were going out, and I was jealous. All I did was kiss her when we were drunk!"

I break down in tears now.

"Rose. Rose! Rosie, listen to me," he says softly over my sobs. "Look, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to hurt you." He steps closer to me now and takes me in his arms. I don't try to stop him, because I know that he's so much stronger than me. That's the reason I tell myself, anyway. "I need you – more than anything. I didn't want to share you with Al. I was scared that he'd end up with you."

"Look, there you go again!" I whisper into his neck. "Enticing me with your words! Do you expect me to believe you?"

"No. Not at all. I'm the boy who cried 'werewolf', aren't I?" he sighs and merely pulls me closer.

"Is this in my head? I don't know what you expect me to think," I ask.

"I don't expect anything, Rosie," he pulls away to look me in the eyes. "I miss you, every day. I still love you, Rose."

I want to scoff – love, at sixteen? – but my heart is beating so fast in my chest and it's so magical and I can feel Albus, stood not three yards away, aching so badly because Scorpius and I – we just fit together. He wants it to be him, I know.

"By the way, I still love you, too," I whisper. He smiles.

"Can you feel how alive the air is?" he asks. Such pretty words, I think. I nod, because he's right. I can feel a thousand angels crying and flying around, fireflies dancing and the grass swaying. It's enchanting. Somewhere in the heavens, stars are colliding.

I pull away from him to stand facing Albus. "After all this time?" he asks, sadly quoting his namesake.

I look at Scorpius. "Always."

Al smiles sadly and I see his heart plummet.

"It all works out in the end, mate," Scorpius says.

"How does it?" Al says, his voice cracking.

"I don't know," he replies, looking at me. "It's a mystery."


End file.
